The Day The Clowns Cried
by scarlett2112
Summary: It's the summer of 1944. With both America and their parents at war, Damon and Elena try to steal a few moments to be together. When the circus arrives for a performance in Hartford, what promises to be an exciting day soon becomes one of terror and mayhem and what will it hold for Damon and Elena?
1. Chapter 1

_We bring you the circus. The pied piper, whose magic tunes lead children of all ages, from 6 to 60, into a tinsel and spun-candy world of reckless beauty and mounting laughter, whirling thrills, the rhythm, excitement and grace of daring and blaring and dance, of high-stepping horses and high-flying stars. But behind all this, the circus is a massive machine whose very life depends on discipline, motion and speed. A mechanized army on wheels that rolls over any obstacle in its path, that meets calamity again and again, but always comes up smiling. A place where disaster and tragedy stalk the big top, haunt the backyard and ride the circus train, where death is constantly watching for one frayed rope, one weak link, or one trace of fear. A fierce, primitive fighting force that smashes relentlessly forward against impossible odds, that is the circus. And this is the story of the biggest of the big tops and of the men and women who fight to make it the greatest show on earth._

July 6, 1944 dawns a hot, humid day in Connecticut. Elena and her brother Jeremy are anxiously anticipating an excursion to the Ringling Brothers, Barnum and Bailey Circus, which is playing in Hartford. This is a special treat for the siblings as World War II is still raging in Europe.

The temperature hovers in the nineties, and the circus grounds are stiﬂing. The area smells of hot canvas, hay and animals. There are circus vendors milling in and around the lines of ticket buyers. They're selling balloons of all colors, fake monkeys made of brightly dyed pink and blue rabbit fur.

Elena wants one but there is no extra cash for such frivolous things in her family and she knows better than to ask. As they wait in line to purchase tickets, her legs start to wobble and the edges of her vision gets spotty and black before she collapses to the ground.

Miranda drags Elena to a shaded area, and she lays her down next to an auxiliary tent on the grass amid the tent ropes. As soon as she opens her eyes, her mother goes to fetch a lemonade for her.

"Thank you," Elena smiles and sips it down, her eyes noticing Jeremy kicking the dirt in his boredom. After she feels better, they stroll around outside. They see the animals, the cotton candy and the other refreshment stands. Sometime later the three of them go inside the main tent.

"Look at the crowd," Elena remarks, her eyes wide and full of wonder.

"I think we should sit down lower in case you faint again," Her mother points to a spot in the about a third of the way up. Sitting down, Elena can hardly contain her excitement, her foot is bouncing against the metal footing of the bleachers. The anticipation is a nervous kind of energy. It tingles through her like electrical sparks on the way to the ground, gathering in her toes.

Suddenly the ringmaster appears and everyone stands to applaud when the show finally starts and it's magical.

In the center of the "big top," which shelters the mammoth three-ring circus, brass horns blare to the rhythmic beat of a huge bass drum. The Ringmaster cracks his whip, and with leotard-clad trapeze artists swoop above him, and colorful clowns begin to cartwheel around him. The atmosphere is charged with excitement.

No matter where she looks, something is going on. The band is playing lively music, vendors are hawking their wares of pink cotton candy, peanuts, popcorn and gaudy toys, which all hold a special attraction to both Elena and Jeremy. Her mother relents and buys them a cotton candy to share. She pulls a piece off and stuffs it in her mouth. It's light and airy and delicious.

"Look Elena," Jeremy tugs at her blouse, pointing to the ring with the tigers.

"Look there," she points to "The Wallendas," who are up on their perches ready to start their high wire act. Elena looks at her mother when she dabs the beads of sweat from her forehead. She's already forgotten that she fainted earlier. Jeremy jumps to his feet when a couple of people walk by in front of them.

The Gilbert siblings are watching with rapt attention when suddenly, about 20 minutes into the start of the circus, there is a collective cry, and people are pointing towards the other end of the tent. A lick of ﬂame is racing up towards the top of it.

"It's probably part of the show," Elena says, absolutely mesmerized, watching as it spreads.

The band changes its tune to the "Stars and Stripes Forever," the traditional call to alarm in circus jargon. Screaming and pandemonium break out and Elena is quickly unaware of her immediate surroundings. She looks around, startled to see that her mom and Jeremy are nowhere in sight. They must have jumped down through the bleachers, six feet to the ground but she doesn't see them.

In shock, Elena stares at what's in front of her. The scene inside the tent is total bedlam. People are screaming, crying and running from the tent to escape the inferno. The ﬁre intensiﬁes and makes a tremendous whooshing sound. Flames shoot high above and into the sky, thick black smoke billows over the scene, staining people's faces. Flaming bits of canvas waft over the panicked crowd, burning them. It isn't until she feels the intense heat on her back that she knows she has to find a way out... or die.

People are stampeding. Men and women are throwing wooden chairs in the air, hitting others and knocking them down. Others are screaming, being pushed down and trampled. It is chaos and confusion. They are being pushed in every direction, she finds herself all alone, completely separated from her family. She cries for them but can't see even a trace of them. With dark, acrid smoke filling the tent, she can hardly see an escape route. Terrified and alone, she doesn't know which way to turn. Fear billows out of control when she finds herself pinned against all these people. In the grip of silent panic, her eyes are wild and dilated. Sweat completely covers her body and her heart feels like it's going to explode.

Grown men are frantically jumping over women and children in a panic to save themselves and their families. The flames, the smoke, the screaming, the horrible feeling of being crushed by all the people makes her belly churn so chaotically that she can feel the bile burn at the back of her throat.

What will she do? Frantically she looks for her mom and Jeremy, but she's too small to see over the thick crowd. It is pushing Elena so hard that she almost falls down and beneath their thundering feet. Somehow she holds tight to whoever is in front of her so she won't fall to her death. The horror and fear of being burned or trampled to death are poking at her insides, intensifying her terror. Suddenly she finds herself on her hands and knees, crawling under and over some hot poles that look like big cages. She keeps going trying to find a way out.

"Please, please someone help me."

Miraculously she finds an opening where the tent is torn. It takes a moment for her to realize she's outside and able to breathe fresh air.

Suddenly a man,_ Damon,_ picks her up and runs with her to a safe distance.

"Thank God," he breathes, his chest heaving with exertion.

As soon as the last syllable escapes his lips, she finds herself interlocked in a kiss. The tender touch they share makes the chaos around them disappear. There isn't anything else in the world except an unquenchable flame and thick black smoke. Something about this feeling makes Elena believe that everything will be okay.

When they part, he stares at her for a short moment and she knows exactly what he's going to do.

"No Damon, you can't go back, it's a death trap," her shaky voice pleads, gripping his shirt so tightly that her knuckles whiten.

"I have to," and after one more quick kiss on her forehead, he runs back into the inferno.

* * *

_I hope you liked the first chapter of this short story. Eva and I are working very hard and writing everyday. I do post spoilers on my scarlett2112 facebook page if you're interested in seeing peeks at stories that are coming. "South of Santa Fe", "The Night The Lights Went Out in Georgia," and "Endless Summer Nights" to name a few. _

_We can never stay away from here for too long._

_Thank you Eva. You're the best, Your constant support, encouragement and willingness to leap with me when I come up with these ideas means the world to me._

_Thank you to all of you. You're the best of the DE fandom. _

_I'd love to hear your thoughts on this newest historical jaunt for Damon and Elena. _

_Have a terrific day and weekend. We'll see you next week with chapter two._


	2. I Won't Back Down

June 1944

"That will be 30 cents," Elena tells the man who's in front of her box requesting a ticket to see "Going My Way." It's a Bing Crosby movie, very popular this year. He gives her the change and a smile then she hands him a ticket and waits for the next person to walk up. Movies, are her secret pleasure, she loves working at the theatre, especially all the free ones she gets to see. After a few more people pay, she smiles when _he_ walks up next, requesting one too.

"Damon."

"Hi Elena, I need two, one for myself and one for Stefan," Damon's gaze drifts to his younger brother, the top of the boy's head reaching about to his elbow.

"Hi Stefan," she leans forward in her seat so he can see her through the metal bars on the ticket window.

He smiles up at her, waving his hand. Elena laughs and slides Damon two tickets.

"Will you be around when the show lets out?" he asks, handing one of them to Stefan.

Elena nods, a slight hint of blush visible under the marquee lights. "Why do you ask?"

"Do you need a ride home? I have the pickup."

"I'd like that."

"Come on, Damon, we need to get a good seat," Stefan whines, tugging on his arm.

"Bye Elena," he winks and follows Stefan into the building.

* * *

Once the show starts, Elena goes inside to help out at the concession stand. When the crowd dies down, she leans back against the counter, sipping on a glass of Coke. The more she thinks about Damon giving her a ride home, the harder she bites on her lip. She loosens her grip when she tastes blood. She likes Damon, a lot but their parents hate each other.

Their grandfathers were partners for years in various businesses. They decided to try their luck, getting into bootlegging alcohol during the 1920's when Prohibition was the law of the land. They made a lot of money, even doing business with Al Capone in Chicago. Her grandpa, although no saint, alcohol was illegal after all, he drew the line on selling it to gangsters and cutthroats instead preferring to sell it to speakeasies and underground clubs while Damon's grandfather wanted to sell their finest whiskey to the highest bidder. Her own father stayed in Connecticut, never wanting any part of that lifestyle. As far as she knows, Giuseppe Salvatore made a similar decision.

The Saint Valentine's Day Massacre in 1929 was the last straw for Jonathan Gilbert. Either Carmelo Salvatore disassociate himself from Capone or he'd take his half of the business and leave, which is ultimately what he did. Eventually Carmelo left Chicago too, moving to New York City when Prohibition was repealed. He and her grandpa never saw each other again, funny thing is they died within days of each other.

She knows Damon thinks it's crazy too but her parents are estranged from his for the same reason, carrying on the feud to the next generation. She suspects her mother believes the same but she doesn't speak against her dad when he's railing about_ those_ Salvatores.

Unconsciously she sighs dreamily when she thinks about him. He has a beautiful face, well defined and handsome. His complexion is flawless, his eyes are the color of a perfect spring sky, and his smile is warmer than the gentle sun. Just the thought of him gives her a warm feeling deep inside her stomach. Damon is a couple years older than her and works for the Hartford Fire Department. She admires his independent spirit, he told her that his father would prefer he worked on Wall Street and earn a good living for himself.

Damon has the Salvatore stubborn streak though. When he announced he was going to be a fireman, all hell broke loose in the Salvatore household according to what he's told her, but eventually they had to accept his choice. Damon is a grown man after all and more than capable of making his own life decisions.

She remembers all too well when he dated Katherine Pierce, they went everywhere together, all the town events. Nor will she ever forget the way her stomach knotted up when she caught them kissing one time in Mr. Saltzman's history class. She walked into the classroom early and they were going at it in the corner. Red faced, she excused herself and backed out of the classroom with a "sorry" on her lips. Damon's never told her why they broke up and she hasn't asked, figuring he'd tell her if he wanted to share.

"Elena," she feels a tug on her white blouse.

"Sorry," she smiles at her co-worker, Caroline and then steps closer to the counter to wait on a customer. After filling several popcorn and drink orders, the line dies down again allowing her to take a bathroom break before there's another run on refreshments.

* * *

"Are you ready?" Damon asks, approaching her with Stefan at his side.

"I'm ready, bye Caroline," she waves and walks out, Damon beside her with his palm against the small of her back. Her skin tingles at the contact. When they reach the pickup, he opens the door, Stefan climbs in first followed by Elena. He smiles when he shuts the door and skirts around the front to climb in the driver's side.

It doesn't take long to reach her place as she lives within walking distance to town, only about a mile. He stops the truck on the road knowing her parents won't appreciate who dropped her off. He gets out and opens it for her, he places his hands on her waist, lifts her out and walks with her to the fence. Stopping he takes her hand, holding it securely in his own. His heart thrums like a humming bird's wings when he's near her.

"I would like to take you on a date," he looks up meeting her deep brown, melted chocolate eyes as the last word is out of his mouth.

"I'd like that too, Damon," she looks into his eyes and finds herself mesmerized. They are blue like the sky right before the sun disappears- dark rich indigo, with specks of wild colors here and there. "We're not them, we shouldn't have to hate each other just because of what our last names are," she squeezes his hand, earning a short smile in return.

"That's exactly how I feel..." the words die on his lips when he hears feet crunching in the gravel. Turning to the sound, he stands stiffer when he sees it's Elena's father.

"Elena, get in the house," he roars, his face red with rage.

"Daddy, he just gave me a ride home."

"I told you to get in the house and there'll be no buts about it."

"Yes, daddy," she casts Damon a look and then hurries away, looking back, meeting his eyes just before disappearing inside.

"Mr. Gilbert, I gave her a lift, nothing more, nothing less. You have no reason to be angry."

"You don't get to tell me what I'm supposed to feel. Now you take that truck and get out of here." With his eyes full of fury, he sneers, "And stay away from my daughter."

Rather than get Elena into more trouble than she's already in, he shakes his head, climbs into his pickup and drives off, leaving her father behind in a swirling brown blur of dust.

* * *

Without saying a word to her mother, Elena storms into her room and slams the door shut, the frame vibrating with the force of it. She's furious with him for behaving like a barbarian, embarrassing her in front of both Damon and Stefan.

She's so angry, she can hardly think straight and just as she's about to go into the bathroom, her door flies open, revealing the hulking figure of her dad. His face mottled crimson, his eyes popping, his tree trunk neck straining. He spits his words out with the ferocity of machine gun fire.

"How dare you disobey, you know the rules."

Without wiping the spittle from her face, she leans closer, perfectly composed and utters just three words, "I don't care. I am not going to hate Damon just because of your stupid feud."

He explodes with fury, "As long as you live in my house, you'll behave according to my rules"

Elena remains as still as a statue, unblinking against his onslaught. "Fine, I'll move out then, is that what you want?"

"You'll do no such thing, you're 17 years old."

"I'll be 18 soon enough and then you can't stop me. Is it worth it, the ugliness? You use your hatred as a crutch, it masquerades as an ointment to sooth the hurt when in truth, it is no more than pouring gasoline on a fire. It's a poison, can't you see that?" she tries to reason with him.

"Elena, don't test me, you won't win. And if you think the Salvatore family would open their arms to you, you're hugely mistaken."

"You're my father and I love you but you're being petty and ridiculous. You're judging Damon and you don't even know him. What happened to the man that taught us to love our neighbors and not to make assumptions?" She sees nothing short of disgust on his face, almost hatred, as his face reddens even deeper.

Grayson tightens his lips, shakes his index finger at her, then stalks out of the room without uttering another word.

* * *

"Unbelievable," she mutters to herself, falling forward onto her bed. Grabbing her pillow, she punches it, letting it take the brunt of her anger. When she hears the door crack open, she turns her head to see her mother quietly close it and then approach her.

"What?"

"Elena, you know better."

"I know better? So you're taking his side?"

"You're very well aware of how he feels about the Salvatore family."

"So I'm supposed to blame Damon for the "sins" of his grandfather. It's wrong and you know it. He's a good person and you shouldn't judge him solely based on his name." The pressure of the evening is inside her, not like a tangled knot but like a ticking time bomb, she needs to let it explode.

"Elena, I know it's not fair but he's your father and those are his rules. What were you thinking?"

"What was I thinking? I can't believe I'm hearing this from you too. Damon's a fireman, he's following his own path in life and you're condemning him without even taking the time to find out who he is. Right now, I'm ashamed to be a Gilbert."

"Elena!"

"I would like to be alone now please?" she turns her head away, not looking up till she hears the door close again. Blowing out a puff of air, she gets up, grabs her pajamas and walks to the bathroom to shower, anger still raging like wildfire inside of her.

* * *

A nudge to her ribs makes her jerk awake to see Jeremy's smiling face. Elena rolls over and pulls the covers over her head.

"I had to wake you up because mom needs you to go to town." He pokes her side, irritating her further. She pulls the blanket down and glares at him.

"Seriously Jer," she swats his arm.

"Blame mom, she told me to get you up."

"What does she want?" Elena mumbles in frustration, pushing her messy hair out of her eyes.

"She needs you to drop off Mrs. Lockwood's dress and get some sugar which means you have to go to town."

"Fine, get out of here then so I can get dressed."

With a twinkle in his eyes, he musses her hair and quickly tries to skirt out of the room. Elena launches her pillow, hitting him squarely in the back of the head just as he's opening the door. Without turning around, he slams it shut behind him.

* * *

Elena takes Mrs. Lockwood's dress and leaves the house to deliver it to her. Walking down the gravel road, the countryside stretches before her like a great quilt of golden, brown and green squares held together by the thick green stitching of the hedgerows. The earth rises and falls like giant waves on a gentle ocean and is dotted with cattle. The dip and sway of the land, the patterns and species of wildflowers, the ever changing sky and wind.

Even though she's still irritated with her parents, she dutifully does as she's told. She won't get anywhere with them if she behaves like a child. With her father's mind made up, there really isn't anything she can do. Little by little she'll try to chip away at his mindset and hopes he'll eventually realize how irrational he's being with Damon.

She's about a quarter mile from home when Jeremy catches up with her. "What are you doing here?"

"Mom said I should walk with you, said it'd be good for me."

"Really?" she scoffs, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Alright, I asked if I could go with you. She said I could play with Tyler if it's okay with his mom."

They walk quietly side by side, occasionally Jeremy picks up a rock to fling. When they get to town, they first stop to get a drink of water at Gus's gas station. He's a friend of their parents. "Thanks Gus," Elena thanks him and swallows down another glassful. From there they go to the Lockwood house, Elena hands Mrs. Lockwood the dress her mom made, allowing her to look it over.

"It's beautiful," she gushes, smiling at them.

"Can I play with Tyler?" Jeremy asks, bouncing back and forth from one foot to the other.

"Sure, he's out back," she points, telling the Gilbert boy to run around the outside rather than through her home.

"I'm going to walk over to the theatre to get my paycheck. I'll pick him on the way back," Elena explains to her.

"That will be fine, Elena and I'll give you some money for your mother when you return."

"Thank you, Mrs. Lockwood."

The woman closes the door so Elena continues down the sidewalk to Main street to pick up the sugar her mother asked for. Along the way, she sees a playbill for Ringling Brothers and Barnum Bailey Circus. They're having a few shows in Hartford next month. She lights up at the thought, hoping her parents will let them go. Continuing down the sidewalk, she skips over the cracks for fun and soon she's coming up on Damon's fire station. As she gets closer, she sees a man outside clipping weeds along the brick building's foundation.

She pauses for a moment to consider his form. When he turns his head, she recognizes his handsome face. Walking up behind him, she touches his shoulder. Jumping to his feet, he turns around, his posture visibly relaxing when he sees it's her. "Elena," he starts, looking over her shoulders to make sure she's alone. "What are you doing here?"

"It's nice to see you too," she retorts, taking a step back from him.

"I didn't mean it like that. It's just after last night..."

"I know, Damon. I tried to talk to him... I didn't get anywhere but I'm not giving up."

"Good, because I'm not either. I like you, Elena. I really want to take you out."

"I'd like that too but I don't want to have to hide, Damon. Somehow we have to make our parents see how ridiculous they are being."

"You're pretty smart for a young woman," he winks, the corners of his mouth lifting.

"Thanks I think," she laughs, her cheeks blooming a rosy shade of pink.

Just as Damon reaches for her hand, the fire alarm starts blaring. "Gotta go," he mumbles, quickly kissing the top of her hand before running inside the firehouse. Elena stands back and waves when the engine flies out of the station with Damon in the driver's seat.

* * *

_Apologies, I planned to update yesterday but had computer issues. This is a short one, the usual length for these types of stories. "Tomorrow" is the only full length dip into the past with our favorite couple. I hope you liked it. Damon and Elena are perfect in any decade. I love building stories against a historical backdrop. _

_Thank you all for the incredible response to chapter one. You always astound Eva and me with your kindness, incredible support and friendships._

_Thanks Eva, love you._

_Chapter title: 'I Won't Back Down' by Tom Petty._

_The movie, "Going My Way", released in May of 1944, won 7 Academy Awards at the 1945 ceremony including Best Picture. _

_We hope you all have a terrific day. Thanks again and will see you next time._


	3. Another Love

Damon drives the fire engine pell-mell, burning through street lights with a blare of the alarm. As they get close to the home, flame burns with colors he never thought he'd see. When they reach their destination, he stops the vehicle, jumps out and runs to the rear to start unwinding the hose while a couple of the other guys hop off the top to connect it to the hydrant.

The wood is fast becoming ash and the vinyl siding is sliding down like chocolate in the summer heat. The smoke is being carried to the left by the wind, over the neighborhood and raining down ash like dirty snow. When the water's turned on, Damon and the other guys aim the hose, sweeping it side to side at the base of the fire. His eyes start to tear from the thick black smoke and with the soot covering his face, zebra stripes form as sweat trails down his forehead.

A pillar of fiery smoke and dust boil up from what's left of the structure. A series of new flashes breaks out, lifting and spreading the acrid smoke and then a great gush of flame rises. Geysers of hot ash sprout upwards, some of the white-hot debris lands so close that they have to back away and reposition the hose. Another engine company pulls up and within ninety minutes, they have the fire out. Damon helps roll up the hose and then drops down to the grass, takes off his helmet and brushes the sweat out his eyes.

He's more than a little surprised at the size of the crowd that gathered across the street. His mouth drops when he catches a glimpse of someone that looks like Grayson Gilbert. When he looks up again, the man is gone so he thinks he must've imagined it, given his fatigue. When one of the guys hands him a glass of water, he chugs it down, gets up and starts to help with the clean up.

* * *

"You're home," Miranda remarks, looking over her shoulder to see her husband walking into the kitchen.

Taking off his hat, he hangs it up on a hook, pours himself a cup of coffee and sits down. Cupping the mug, he stares ahead of him for a few minutes.

"Did you see Elena and Jeremy on the way home?"

"No."

"I sent Elena into town so she could drop off Carol Lockwood's dress and pick up some sugar. Jeremy tagged along."

"They should be home soon then," he mentions, taking a long swallow of coffee.

"Honoria Fell stopped by so I could take her measurements." She turns around when he doesn't answer. Seeing the contemplative look on his face, she dries her hands and sits down beside him. "Is something bothering you?"

Standing up, he refills his cup and leans back against the counter. "There was a fire. I happened to be on that side of town, I saw the smoke and flames and I also saw Damon Salvatore."

"And?"

"He was fighting the fire, I barely recognized him through the soot and ash. He could do anything, his family is wealthy enough but he's doing a public service."

"Are you going to talk to Elena?"

"No, I'm not ready to give her free rein but I do have some things to think about." He finishes off what's left in his mug then sets it in the sink. "I'm going outside to fix that piece of fencing."

"I'll send Jeremy for you when supper's ready."

Grayson nods, slips his hat back on and goes outside. Sighing, she looks out the window as he loads some wood in the rear of the pickup and disappears down their road in cloud of dust.

* * *

Damon pulls his pickup in front of the house and stops it. Laying his head against the steering wheel, he takes a few deep breaths before getting out of the car to go inside. The Salvatore home is an octagonal shaped home built in the 1880's. The thought behind the design was a belief more light and ventilation was healthier in a sooty, industrialized America. Besides having eight sides, typical features include the use of quoins to accentuate the many corners and a cupola on a flat roof. The home is a little ostentatious for his tastes but he does love the privacy of his room and the privacy his father's 100 acre property affords.

Brushing off his sweaty brow, he walks inside, hanging up his hat and goes into the kitchen to find something to eat.

"You're late today," his mother comments, considering his appearance. Ash is smeared across his cheek and forehead, his jeans are also stained dark with soot. "I should be used to you coming home looking like that by now but you still surprise me," she raises an eyebrow.

"We had a fire, on Benton Street, total loss but fortunately we got the family out," he explains, flopping onto one of the kitchen chairs.

"I'm glad." She opens the refrigerator for the ice tea, pours him a glass and hands it to him. Watching him chug it, she chuckles, refilling it when he holds it out.

Running into the kitchen, Stefan turns a chair around and plops down. "You're home, Damon."

He lifts weary smile to his brother and takes another swallow, relaxing into the chair.

"Will you play catch with me before it gets dark?"

"I'm really tired tonight, Stefan," he starts, pausing when his father enters just as Lily hands her younger son a stack of plates to set the table.

"Don't you think you should wash up a little before we eat?" Giuseppe asks, taking a long drag on his Cuban cigar. "Or better yet, quit that job."

"Dad, please stop. I'm tired. As soon as supper's done, I'm going to clean up and go to bed."

"You wouldn't be so tired if you'd give up this foolishness and come to work with me."

Sighing, Damon drops his face into his hands for a few seconds. Pushing his chair back, the legs squeaking as they slide along the tiled floor, he gets up, puts his glass in the sink and leaves the room. He's in no mood and much too exhausted to cross sabers with his father tonight.

* * *

"I'm going outside for a couple of minutes," Elena tells Caroline when the refreshment line dies down. Grabbing a soda, she drops a few cents in the till and flips off the lid with a bottle opener.

"I'll take my break when you come back," she calls as Elena pushes the door open. Looking over her shoulder, Elena nods, adding, "I won't be long." She walks around to the front of the building and leans against the exterior. Taking a long swallow, she sighs at the taste as it goes down and startles when she hears _his _voice.

"Good?" He laughs, moving to stand beside her.

"Since I work here, I get it for a couple pennies. Do you want a swallow?" she offers with an impish grin. With him so close that their flesh is almost touching, Elena feels like every fiber of her being is vibrating. Adrenaline is coursing through her veins, her hands tremble slightly and her eyes are wide.

_This is how a cat must feel like in the seconds before pouncing on the mouse. _

"Sure," he takes it from her, brushing her hand, excitement wires his body like he's plugged into the mains. Tipping the bottle, he takes a quick drink. It makes a popping sound when he pulls it from his lips. He wipes it off and hands it back with a wink. "Thanks." As always when he's near her, it feels as if there's a trail of gunpowder in his veins and she has the only match.

So entranced with each other, neither notices the black clouds sprawling across the sky, billowing in from the west. The air grows heavy and the suffocating humidity presses down. The scent of rain is dark and heady. A stillness falls over the street, and in the silence comes a low crackle of thunder, rolling across rooftops to the pattering of tiny raindrops. For a moment, everything stops. Even the wind holds its breath. A streak of hot silver splits the sky, and the downpour begins.

Grabbing Elena's hand, he pulls her under the awning. When their eyes meet, Elena's lips part slightly as she leans closer to his. The rain runs down their faces as their lips meet, each tasting the cold drops. Instead of detracting from the intensity of the moment, it escalates it. Damon pushes his lips in more firmly and the wave that runs through her is intoxicating, making her head swim as she pulls back to take in his beautiful face.

"Elena, your break is over," Caroline's high pitched voice interrupts the moment.

"I have to go inside," she utters, her gaze drifting from his eyes to his mouth and back.

Without saying a word, he cups her face in his hands and gives her another kiss. When they part, he opens the door for her. "Goodnight Elena."

Touching her lips, she watches dreamy-eyed as he gives her a smile and disappears around the side of the building.

* * *

After leaving Elena, Damon joined his buddies in the bar across the street and half a block from the theatre. He has a few beers, cracks a few jokes then leaves to go home. With the circus coming to town tomorrow, he plans to show up early to see if he can earn a couple extra bucks helping out plus he promised Stefan he'd take him to see the evening performance. Getting into his truck, he starts the ignition and pulls onto the road.

One storm passed and another one is now passing through. The boom rolls across the landscape, the boughs of tree sway in the wind. The first drops of rain hit like bullets against his windshield. On a far hill a jagged bolt of white hot lightening splits the chilly sky, and then it's gone, thunder following only a second behind. As he drives the short distance from town, the intensity and the frequency increases. The lightning strikes. One, two, and the boom comes. Nearer. A few more miles, the lightning forks dreadfully close to his pickup. A few minutes later he pulls into the driveway, parks and runs into the house, his hair dripping wet.

Running up the stairs, he dodges into the bathroom, grabs a towel to dry his hair, then slips off his clothes and steps into a hot shower. The water pours down, it drips by his side, as his mind fades into dullness and everything is a foggy illusion. The sensation of the steamy water is calming. His mind swirls and her face appears and it's like he's standing under an everlasting waterfall.

After stepping out, he cinches a towel around his waist and goes to his room but not before carefully opening his brother's door to peak in on him. Seeing him sleeping soundly, he closes it again and goes to his room, a little surprised to see his father sitting in his arm chair, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Something wrong dad?"

"I was in town earlier, I just happened to drive past the theatre... imagine my surprise when I saw my son kissing a girl... The Gilbert girl no less," he looks down his nose disdainfully at the mention of her name.

"Dad, I don't have to explain myself to you. I'm an adult and I won't allow you to tell me who I can and cannot see."

"She's a Gilbert."

"I don't care if she's a direct descendent of Benedict Arnold, I like Elena. I intend to keep seeing her and I'm not going to hide."

"Damon, you know our history with that family, why are you deliberately defying me again? First it's this half cocked idea to be a fireman and now spending time with the Gilbert girl? Who are you?"

"I'm your son. I love and respect you. But this is my life we're talking about, not yours." He drops his towel, not caring that he's giving his dad an eyeful of his naked ass, slips into a pair of pajama pants, and sits down on the edge of the bed. "I know Elena's dad is none too happy either but don't you think it's time to forget this stupid feud? We're not the Hatfield's and the McCoy's."

"Her father knows about this?" his voice booms.

"I took her home from work and he caught us, let me have an earful."

"How dare he insinuate that you're not good enough for his precious daughter?"

Before Damon can retort, thunder cracks the air, as if the very heavens might split apart. It rolls like the ash of a volcano, becoming a booming rumble. Suddenly the electricity flickers off leaving the two of them in complete darkness. Giuseppe curses, pulls out his lighter and flicks it on, turning quickly to light the oil lamp that Damon keeps on his dresser. Next thing, his door slams open and Stefan charges in, diving under the covers of his big brother's bed.

Shaking his head, Giuseppe takes the lamp. "We're not done talking about this," he adds as an afterthought as he steps over the threshold and pulls the door closed.

With the lights out, he has nothing better to do so he crawls in bed. Chuckling slightly when he sees his brother's already asleep with his head still buried, he punches his pillow a few times then closes his eyes, hoping to dream of kissing Elena over and over and over again.

* * *

The countryside is bathed in the brilliant summer sun, white and pink clover dots the hillside. Elena looks around to see the cows grazing contentedly, calves at their sides growing bigger by the day. Elena's walking down the ditch looking for wild asparagus. She pauses, raising her hand to shield her eyes from the sun when she hears the sound of an engine and cloud of dirt kicking up behind it as it approaches her. When it pulls over to the side of the road, Elena smiles when she sees who it is.

He pads towards her with the measured steps of a feral cat and then he's standing in front of her. Unexpectedly, his hand drifts to her hip. It settles there and pulls her closer. Inhaling sharply, she's nuzzled against his warm chest, chiseled to perfection.

_Must he be so perfect? _

She splays her hand against it, intending to push him away, but instead she leaves it there. His breathing quickens along with hers. Damon holds her gently, cupping Elena's face with one hand. He leans down and softly kisses the tender area at the base of her neck. Her body goes rigid with surprise, trembling when a euphoric warmth blossoms within her. Elena is breathless with delight as he showers her with gentle, soft kisses, each with its own flicker of warmth. She gazes up at him, thrilled beyond words to be the recipient of his affection. He draws back and spends a moment studying her face.

Elena feels her blush deepen under his scrutiny. Damon gazes at her lovingly, his eyes softening with tenderness before sparking with something else. He tilts her head to the side and kisses her, his lips demanding. Elena feels a smoldering heat deep within her as his grip tightens, crushing her body to his, gentle yet firm. He slants her head further, deepening the kiss.

"I'm going to marry you someday…" he whispers hoarsely after a moment, his lips still brushing hers. "You taste even better…" He opens his mouth against hers once more, leaving her light-headed and feverish. "Mmm… delicious…"

She presses closer then, kissing him back so she can savor the taste of him on her tongue. He is sweeter than champagne but just as intoxicating, and she kisses him until her lungs burn, until breathing becomes an absolute necessity.

His eyes flicker, so soft and hazy, and she strokes her thumb over the corners of his mouth, still feeling dazed.

"This is really happening, right?" she asks, knowing she sounds stunned and awed. "I'm not dreaming or anything? You really said you're going to marry me?"

Damon smiles and reaches for her hand, running his finger softly over her still empty fourth finger, bringing it to his lips, he kisses her knuckle. "I am going to put a ring on this finger."

Lost in the amazing moment, neither hears a vehicle pull up and stop, parking opposite of Damon's pickup. It's only when the door slams closed that either looks up. Seeing her father stalking towards them, Elena jumps back slightly. "Daddy?"

"Care to explain?" he looks skeptically at Damon.

"Mr. Gilbert, look. I don't want to sneak around behind your back. I was at home and I felt an overpowering need to see your daughter. You have my word that this is real and not a stupid game just because of who she is. I'd prefer to have your blessing but with or without it, I'm going to keep seeing Elena."

He considers Elena and the Salvatore again. Pulling his hanky out of his pocket, he wipes the sweat off his brow, stuffs it back in, turns on his heels and goes back to his truck. After opening the door, he calls back to his daughter, telling her to be home as soon as she's done picking asparagus and drives off, leaving a stunned Damon and Elena in his wake.

"Who was that man and what did he do with my dad?" Elena says aloud, her eyes still staring at the dust cloud he left behind.

"Let's not look a gift horse in the mouth."

And then, his lips are on hers, and she doesn't have time to react, doesn't have time to process what he said because his tongue dipping into her mouth is as gravity-defying as a kiss will probably ever get for her. His hands are hot on her waist, bringing her flush against the length of his hard, strong body. He's kissing her with reckless abandon, covering her mouth with his in the kind of practiced, natural, searing movement that she feels in every nerve ending of her electrified body. Her hands unintentionally linger on his neck, tugging his head down, inviting him to take from her because she wants to give him everything.

His hands roam her stomach, her sides, the small of her back, and she utters a moan into his mouth. He tugs her closer still, letting out a guttural groan of his own, a sound that sends fire flaming through her veins.

"Damon," she signs breathily, nearly losing her balance.

"Listen as much as I want to continue this, I have to get home. I promised Stefan we'd set off some firecrackers."

"Sounds fun," she adds, walking him to his pickup. He kisses her forehead, gets in and ignites the engine.

"You going to the circus?"

"Yeah, I'm going Thursday afternoon with mom and Jeremy."

"I'm taking Stefan tomorrow night. I'll see you soon." He makes a U-turn and disappears down the gravel road. Sighing dreamily, she picks up her basket to hunt for more wild asparagus.

* * *

_Tremendous thanks to all of you. You're the very best of the DE fandom, there's no arguing that point. _

_Thank you Eva. You're the best, Your constant support, encouragement and willingness to leap with me when I come up with these ideas means the world to me._

_Chapter title: 'Another Love' by Tom Odell. (The one that played during the rain kiss in 6x7)_

_Have a terrific day and a wonderful week. We'll see you next time with chapter four._


	4. Ring of Fire

_In the bright sunny morning light, the first section of the circus train pulls into the railroad yard, long before the city is awake. But the animals are awake and looking for their breakfast. Then comes the unloading, two hundred tons of living power. Sixty carloads of equipment. Wheels rolling, gears grinding. A circus is gigantic power and unceasing movement. It is a restless giant, unlimbering its muscles after the long night ride before moving into capture a new city__. Up from the railroad yards with their faithful escort of early-rising young fans who've been waiting since daybreak to follow these living tanks as they lumber and sway to the circus grounds, where the stakes are being driven that will anchor the big top against the beating of its constant adversaries, wind and rain. An army is at work, an army the audience never sees. An army that must be moved from city to city, fed and housed, a thousand strong hardworking men moving like a finely-geared machine, with one purpose, to roll the show. _

_The all-important baling ring clangs into place. Bales of fireproof canvas are hauled out, unwrapped, rolled out, stretched, laid to the ground, where it lies like the skin of a might dismembered giant, waiting for some magician to bring it together and give it life, waiting until one by one, the giant ribs rise into place and are firmly fastened to the earth. The disciplined army never loses a moment or wastes a motion. The boss makes fast the canvas to the baling ring. The lives of all depend on it. Each of the hundreds of roustabouts has his place and his job, a responsible one, for one mistake, one bit of carelessness, could cost a life. _

_The giants skin is stretched out until it lies smooth and molded, like the bowl of a great coliseum. But eyes watching for trouble have noticed a little tear that must be patched before the searing fingers of the wind can rip it into a disaster, before the giant can stand up and stretch over his feast of color and laughter. Now the giant comes to life. Slowly, the tons and tons of his canvas body rise and swell into the air. He starts growing to his full, majestic height as he catches his first deep breath. The strong baling rings slipping along the great poles, until at last they reach to the flags flying from the peak. And as the big top rises in each town, new risks are taken._

* * *

As he rouses from a heavy slumber, Damon burrows himself into the soft sheets. Yawning, he rubs the remainders of sleep from his eyes and gazes at the window. The vivid morning light makes a swath across his bedroom. Glancing at his clock, he reluctantly throws his legs over the side of the bed and stumbles into the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth.

"Good morning," his mom greets him with a cup of strong coffee when he ambles into the kitchen.

"Thanks," he mumbles, wasting no time in taking a swallow. Sitting down, he smiles when she slides a plate of eggs and bacon in front of him. "Smells good," he digs in immediately, his facial expression one of pleasure when his taste buds ignite. After refilling his mug, she joins him at the table, splitting a homemade bun and spreading it with butter.

"Where's dad?"

"He took Stefan and went to New Britain, he has some kind of a meeting."

"I'm surprised he got up so early after the circus. It was fun."

"He couldn't stop talking about it," she laughs, dropping the last piece of bun in her mouth.

"I have to run. I'll see you this evening." Damon puts his plate in the sink, kisses his mother on the cheek before rushing out of the house to drive to the fire station.

* * *

It's a hot day, half past 2 in the afternoon and Damon's enjoying a cold glass of water when the first alarm rings. Setting the glass aside, he slides down the pole, slips into his gear and behind the engine's wheel, flooring the gas pedal to pull out of the station towards the benign field where the Ringling Brothers, Barnum and Bailey Circus is giving an afternoon performance.

His mouth drops when they reach the scene, people are pouring out of the tent in a panic. Thick black plumes of smoke and fire explode into the sky, the flames rolling outwards like the smoke of a mushroom cloud. The heat is oppressive even from two hundred yards away. Jumping out of engine, he helps the men connect the hose and hears the alarms as several more engines are enroute to the scene.

When Damon looks up, he sees *Weary Willie the clown with a pail of water. He's gripping the heavy bucket in his right hand, and his left arm is raised up in a sort of balancing motion. As a result, the left side of his face is partly covered. Damon can sense his determination, though. When he reaches the raging fire he must realize how futile a bucket of water is so he pulls the canvas up and starts ushering children outside.

"Keep moving! You can't get back in there!" Damon hears him say when he gets close enough to help.

The fire leaps up, picking up speed like a river does tributaries. It holds its head regally and proudly as it spreads destruction while glowering at its surroundings, daring anything to challenge its awesome power. The flames dance and leap in the air, reaching hungrily for anything that it can consume to fuel its wrath.

Seeing the smoke and ash, it dawns on Damon that Elena mentioned going to this performance. And suddenly dread creeps insidiously, pushing against him like an invisible gale. Dread sets his face like rigor mortis, his teeth lock tight together.

With his heart racing like a tremendous machine, Damon and his men run inside the burning big top. The acrid smoke seizes his lung and flame licks at his outreached arm as he coaxes a child to jump. When she does, he quickly carries her outside and away from danger before rushing back into the inferno. The scene is utter chaos, screaming, yelling and the air is black with smoke.

The crowd around slows, almost to a standstill. On the other side where the fire had started people are moving much faster. Some of them head left of it toward the exits now blocked by the animal chutes running between the lion cage and the previously opened one. Others go to the right of the cage, merging with the faster moving crowd.

As the big top incinerates, Damon and his men work tirelessly to get people out. After carrying an older woman to safety, miraculously he hears _her _voice.

"Please, please someone help me."

He runs towards the flames again and then he sees her, crawling out from an opening where the tent is torn. Damon runs to scoop her up and carries her till she's a safe distance away.

"Thank God," he breathes, his chest heaving with exertion as sweat trails down his face. As soon as the last syllable escapes his mouth, he kisses her. The tenderness makes the chaos around them momentarily disappear. When they part, he stares at her for a short moment before setting her safely on the ground.

"No Damon, you can't go back, it's a death trap," her shaky voice pleads, gripping his shirt so tightly that her knuckles whiten.

"I have to," and after one more quick kiss on the forehead, he runs back into the firestorm.

* * *

Running back inside, the scene is like something out of Dante's Inferno. There's cries of pain, screams of terror, the big ball of fire just got bigger and bigger and bigger. By now, everybody is panicking, trying to find a way out, they're clawing futilely at the canvas. Screams and cries fight to be heard above the roar of the flames. Damon runs over and starts flinging kids up and over the cage to get them out. Another fireman pulls out his pocket knife and starts to slit the tent.

Huge pieces of flaming canvas rain down, hot paraffin falls in sizzling globs burning hair, clothes and bare skin. Once the big top loses tension, the poles fall and it's as if the doors of hell have opened. The terrible sound of people dying, screams for mommy, for anyone to help fill his ears as everything collapses around on top of him and everyone else still stuck inside.

* * *

In less than 10 minutes, the dead are everywhere, burned beyond recognition. Most are found at either of the two runways on the north side. Firefighters hose down the heat of charred flesh, searching for anyone that might be alive. Bodies at the chutes are fused together like chunks of black coal. Firemen break them apart to get to anyone that may be alive underneath, finding young Elliot Smith . They quickly get him to an awaiting ambulance.

Some die from injuries sustained after leaping from the tops of the bleachers in hopes they could escape under the sides of the tent, though that method of escape ended up killing more than it saved. Others die after being trampled by other spectators, with some asphyxiating underneath the piles of people who fall over each other. Most of the dead are found in piles, some three bodies deep, at the most congested exits. A small number of people are found alive at the bottoms of these piles, protected by the bodies on top of them when the burning big top ultimately fell down.

Elena stares at what was once the giant tent. In shock, she's unable to move, staring at the spot she last saw Damon. Suddenly someone envelopes her with familiar arms. "Elena, honey," her mother coos, brushing the sweaty hair off of her soot covered face. Looking down, she sees Jeremy crying, holding tightly to her dress.

"Let's go home," Miranda gently guides her to their car, and after helping her inside, opens the door for Jeremy to crawl in the back seat.

"Elena, did you see something, someone?"

"Damon's dead," she mouths robotically.

"Are you sure?" she reaches over and grabs her daughter's hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.

"He saved me than he ran back in, it's the last time I saw him, who could survive that?" Elena turns, but too slowly to be normal. When she speaks her voice trails, like her words are unwilling to take flight. There is a sadness in her eyes, the brown too glossy.

"Oh sweetheart. I know it seems bad but there's no way to know if he's dead. If we don't hear anything, I'll talk to his mother. And I know it's hard and I know it seems like there's no way he could be alive under all of that, but until they find him, we can't just assume."

"I love him, mama, he said he was going to marry me," she blurts out through a chocked, tear filled voice.

"Oh Elena, she takes her in her arms again when, running her hand down Elena's long hair. Several moments pass before Miranda lets her go. After looking back at Jeremy, she reaches to squeeze his hand too. She's never been so grateful in her life that she and her children were spared on this catastrophic day.

* * *

Damon's mind screams out as pain drives through his back. Every thought he has becomes confused as the burning pain licks up his back like a scorching fire. He can hear people around him screaming and shouting for help. Anger swipes through at the chaos and pain of those around him. He wants to protect them, his own agony intensifying as he tries to drag himself towards a hand he sees moving at the bottom of pile. Every inch causes a searing pain to burst at his nerve endings, still he uses his elbows to pull himself forward to take hold of the child's hand. "Here," he shouts with what little strength has left and then unrelenting waves crash over him. He blissfully loses consciousness when he's lifted onto a stretcher and carried away.

* * *

The next morning Elena's eyes snap open. She feels woozy and when she stands up, her limbs move like they have a mind of their own, she has to grab onto her bed frame to keep from falling on her face. When she reaches the bathroom, she barely recognizes the person looking back at her. Puffy eyes and her cheeks have tear tracks and that's when she remembers Damon and yesterday's nightmare.

After staring at herself for a few minutes, she runs a bath to clean the soot out of her hair and off her skin. When she finishes, she dresses quickly and goes downstairs, finding Jeremy and her parents sitting at the kitchen table, her dad reading the newspaper.

"I want to go to the hospital just in case..." She waits, wide eyed, heart in her throat. "I need help, please help me?" And then there are hot tears, falling fast and thick onto her light blouse. She feels the wetness of her skin and each drop as it emerges from her open eyes.

"You know, sweet angel, it doesn't feel like it now but you're gonna be just fine," Miranda says, gently urging her to the empty chair.

"Don't say that please. If you won't take me to the hospital, I'll walk to myself, I'll go wherever they're keeping the bodies, I'll walk to his parent's house if I have to," she says with conviction, wiping her tears with a Kleenex her mom hands her.

Miranda turns to Grayson who pulls her chair out and tells her to sit. "You eat something and then we'll go into town okay?"

Elena nods and sits. When her mother slides a plate in front of her, a wave of nausea hits her so intensely that she barely makes it to the toilet bowl before emptying her stomach. Porcelain clashes with olive green which only makes more vomit stream from her mouth. Hot tears spill from her eyes as futile whimpers for help spill out between yesterday's dinner. Miranda rushes in after her, moistening the back of her neck with a cool washcloth. "Did you give me something last night?" she mumbles, taking a glass of water to rinse out her mouth.

"You were hysterical, Elena, so yes, I did put something in your milk."

Sighing, she lays her head on her arm for a few minutes then stands up with her mother's help. After brushing her teeth, she goes after her dad. Once she's seated, he gets behind the wheel and they drive to town hoping to find out about Damon.

* * *

Grayson isn't surprised at all by the crowded parking lot. Before coming to the hospital, Grayson ran by Damon's fire station, he never thought he'd be so happy to hear that the younger Salvatore is alive. Elena broke down in happy tears when he relayed the news to her. He is alive but his condition is precarious, having suffered burns to his arms, legs and torso.

Elena jumps out of the vehicle and runs to the front door. Her dad catches up to her just as they reach the navy double-doors with their dull chrome handles. She pulls her eyes from the highly polished linoleum floor to catch a glimpse of the hallway that stretches beyond. Without pause she pushes with her body weight, opening them up. A draft of air hits her face, warm and with a tincture of bleach. Ahead of them lie magnolia walls, decorated with old black and white photographs of hospital staff, ground breaking and other important hospital moments. When they finally reach the nurses station, Elena blurts out Damon's name.

"Excuse my daughter, she's very emotional," Grayson starts, "we're looking for Damon Salvatore."

"Let me see," she looks through the hospital log. "He's on the third floor. Take the elevator and go to your left, it'll lead you to the nurses station. They'll know if he can have visitors."

"Thank you," he says, urging Elena down the hall to the lift. As soon as they step out on the third floor, they look around and when they see the desk, they walk to it at a brisk pace. "Can I see Damon Salvatore? Is he okay?"

"He's in room 315. He was burned in the fire yesterday and is receiving pain medication. Please don't bother him."

"I promise, I just need to see that he's alive."

"Sure honey," she smiles at the young girl and points her down the hall.

"I'll be in the waiting room," Grayson tells her. She nods and hurries down the hall, pausing when she reaches his room. Just as she reaches for the handle, it opens.

"Hello," a nurse, Sofia smiles kindly and opens the door wider. An IV is hanging on a pole beside him, he has oxygen in his nose. His arms are wrapped and lay on pillows at his side. In the corner are two chairs, frayed with wear and tear. It is a typical hospital room, sparse and functional. Sucking in a breath, she walks over to Damon's bedside, she closes her eyes in relief at the rise and fall of his chest. Afraid to touch him so as not to cause him pain, she wispily touches his hand with her fingertips. The nurse offers her a chair and she sits down.

"Please call me if he wakes up. I just gave him some pain medicine so he probably won't."

"I will, thank you," Elena answers softly, unable to turn away from Damon. As soon as they're alone, she stands up and gently brushes her lips over his and then moves her mouth to his ear. "I love you, Damon."

"What are you doing here?" booms a voice behind her.

"Mr. Salvatore, I... I wanted to see if he was okay. I don't mean any harm," Elena says in a low voice, her hand drifting to Damon's.

"You have no right to be here. He's my son." His temper is like TNT, once the sparks start to sizzle there is very little time to duck and cover. She knows she should just stay quiet and wait for the storm to abate, but it's Damon and she tries to reach the older man.

"Please Mr. Salvatore, I love Damon."

"You're too young to know what love is. Now leave," he growls and holds the door open for her. Tears fill her eyes and she tries to plead with him again but his mind is made up.

"Get out of here."

Covering her mouth, she runs out of the room and down the hall, and as soon as she sees a sign for the stairwell, she darts in and hurries outside, not stopping till she reaches their car. Her father soon catches up to her, taking her in his arms, he holds her close, running his hand down her back. "What happened?"

"Mr. Salvatore told me to get out. I tried to tell him that I only wanted to see if he was alright but he wouldn't listen."

"I'm sorry, Elena. I didn't see Giuseppe walk down the hall otherwise I would have talked to him."

"It's okay, daddy, you didn't know. Thank you for helping me find him," she chokes out breathily.

"Of course, we'll pray for him okay?"

Elena wipes her tears and nods, crawling into the car when he opens the door. When they drive away, Elena looks back at the hospital to the corner of the building where Damon's laying.

* * *

"Mr. Salvatore," a nurse, Soma's the name on her badge, approaches, hands on her hips, a disgruntled look on her face. "You cannot be yelling like that here. This is a hospital and if it happens again, I'll have security escort you out. Are we clear?" she scolds, her posture stiff.

"My apologies, it won't happen again," he offers meekly.

"Make sure of it." After looking over his shoulder to see that her patient is still sleeping, she backs out of the door, pulling it closed behind her.

Giuseppe breathes a sigh of relief, it's not often that people go toe to toe with him. This is his second visit today, earlier he was here with his wife and Stefan. After taking them home when his younger son got very upset at seeing his brother wrapped like a mummy, he felt an overpowering need to return. He can't explain it. Pulling up a chair, he sits down at Damon's bedside and opens the _Hartford Courant_. The headline reads _'139 die, 225 hurt in Circus Fire.' _ He pauses to look over at his son, grateful that he survived the mass casualty. Suddenly the room feels stifling so he walks over to the window to get a breath of fresh air. A beacon of light pierces through the mullioned panes of glass, bathing the black and white tile floor in a crisscross of iridescent color; illuminating the darkened room.

Two young children are outside skipping on the sidewalk, he imagines they must be waiting for someone inside the building. His eyes drift over to his son again and this time, he's shocked to see Damon staring back at him. He rushes to the bedside and gently takes his hand.

"Dad?" he says weakly.

"It's okay, Damon, you're going to be fine. You were burned in the fire."

"Hurts," his eyes drift to his wrapped arms. Before he can utter another peep, two nurses come in to turn him off his back. He screams in agony at the movement.

"It's a little too soon for medication, Mr. Salvatore. You have burns on your arms and your back, a little on your legs."

"Water?"

"Yes of course," the nurse smiles and offers him a straw. It's feels like heaven to his parched lips and mouth. Once he's had his fill, they leave the room, promising to return when his medication is due again.

Even the tiniest movement is painful but he shifts just slightly and focuses on his dad again. "Elena, is she okay?"

"Yes, she's alive, unharmed."

"Please, can I see her? Damon pleads, and the look on his face is Giuseppe's undoing. His heart is pounding against his chest and his throat thickens, making it hard to swallow. Closing his eyes for a moment, he has to take a breath. Regret washes over him like long slow waves on a shallow beach. Each wave is icy cold and sends shivers down his spine. And guilt, it sits not only on his chest but inside his brain. What he's done, he cannot un-do although he can try to make amends.

"Yes, son. I'll bring her here. Please sleep now and when you wake, I'll have her here okay?"

Although painful, he cups his dad's hands between his, "Thank you." he croaks, licking his dry lips. After Giuseppe gives him with another drink, his eyes drift closed and soon he's asleep.

Setting the cup down, the elder Salvatore walks out of his room, and slowly down the hall, determined to keep his promise...

* * *

Pulling into the driveway, Giuseppe turns off the engine and sits for a few moments, contemplating what he must do. When the door opens, Lily is standing there so he reluctantly gets out of the car to go inside.

Seeing the unfamiliar look on her husband's face, immediately she thinks something happened to her eldest son. "What's the matter, is it Damon?"

"Calm down, it's not him. I talked to his doctor before I returned to his room. "He's not out of the woods but he's young and strong. Still he could be in the hospital for months."

"Thank God," she breathes, slapping her palm over her still slamming heart. "What's troubling you then?" she asks, following him to the kitchen.

"Where's Stefan?" he pours them each a cup of coffee, joining her at the table.

"Liz came to pick him up so I could go back to the hospital with you."

When the guilt comes again to haunt him, he takes a breath. "We'll go back, Lily but I needed to talk to you first."

"What's troubling you?" she reiterates, laying her hand on his forearm.

"Damon asked to see the Gilbert girl... She came to see him but I made her cry and chased her away. I promised him I'd bring her but how do I do that?"

"Oh Giuseppe, you didn't!"

"Yeah, I did," he drops his eyes and picks up his cup to take a swallow.

"Whether we like it or not, Damon's in love with her. This feud needs to end, we both know that."

He nods, gets up and refills his cup. Leaning back against the counter, he meets his wife's stare. "I know you're right. Now I need to go over there, apologize and hope she'll let me bring her to him." After finishing his coffee, he sets the mug down, pulls his keys out of his pocket and stomps towards the front door.

"I'm going with you," Lily calls from behind, follows him outside and slides into the passenger seat. Taking her hand, he gives it a squeeze to fortify his conviction.

* * *

They drive down the highway, the land rolls like it always does, as if time and space are one thing. Gripping the steering wheel tight, guilt still feels like ice in his gut. It's almost 100 degrees outside but his insides feel frozen. Although it's hard to move past his mistakes, he knows they're his and he's never been one to shirk his responsibility. Just before he turns onto the road that leads to the Gilbert farm, he presses on the brake, stopping the vehicle.

"We have to do this, Giuseppe, not only for Damon but for us too," Lily looks at him, her hand patting the top of his on the gearshift.

Nodding, he steps on the gas pedal and moments later, they pull into the Gilbert driveway. Stepping out of the car, he waits for Lily and after taking her hand, they walk to the front door. With determination washing over his face, he presses the bell.

Inside, Elena still shaken from her encounter with Damon's dad, dries her hands and walks to the door. When she opens it, her hand goes flaccid and the towel falls to the floor when she finds Giuseppe and Lily Salvatore standing in front of her.

* * *

_They didn't have HIPAA in 1944. Here in the US, HIPAA regulations have to do with patient privacy. _

_*Emmett Leo Kelly was a famous American circus performer, who created the memorable clown figure "Weary Willie", based on the hobos of the Depression era._

_We don't know how to properly thank you all. We're constantly amazed, humbled and deeply grateful for your enthusiasm and support for this and our other stories. _

_Thank you Eva. Love you._

_Chapter title: 'Ring of Fire' by Johnny Cash._

_The next story to post will be 'The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia' - Fresh from a talk with her grandmother, Elena faces a troubling assignment: she must go to a tiny Georgia town to dig into an old murder case. Dogged by ghosts of the past and with the help of a small town sheriff, she must unravel the psychological puzzle if she wants to get the story - and identify the real killer._

_Have a terrific day and a wonderful week. We'll see you next time with chapter five._


	5. 100 Years

_**This chapter is dedicated to Short on words who got married today. Wishing you and Christof a great life Charlotte. I chose this one because it speaks to the longevity and how beautiful a happy marriage can be.**_

* * *

Never before has Elena noticed how time is so much like water; that it passes slowly, a drop at a time or rush by in a mere blink. All the while her insides feel as if there is nothing there, nothing to need feeding, nothing to have need of anything at all. Seeing the look on Damon's parents' faces, she shakes her head back and forth, darting up the stairs behind her before they even have a chance to speak.

"Elena, who's here?" Grayson asks, coming to the door just as she reaches the top step. Turning to it, he stops in his tracks, his own mouth gaping when he sees none other than Giuseppe and Lily Salvatore. "I'm at a loss for words here, is there something that you want?"

"Can we come in Grayson...? I need to apologize to your daughter?" Giuseppe asks, looking down when he feels Lily give his hand a squeeze. Grayson extends his hand, urging them inside and then closes it behind them.

"Who's here?" Miranda asks, a little taken aback herself at their unexpected visitors. "Giuseppe, Lily, oh my lord, is Damon okay?"

"Thank you for asking, Miranda," Lily starts, "Damon is in a lot of pain but he's stable."

"That's good news," she pauses a moment when she realizes that her daughter is nowhere in sight. "Where's Elena?"

"She ran upstairs when she saw us," Giuseppe starts, "I suspect she thinks we came to deliver bad news?"

"I should go talk to her." Miranda puts a foot on the bottom step.

"Please let me, I need to tell her I'm sorry. I was pretty awful when I saw her at the hospital."

"I don't understand?" Miranda's eyes drift to her husband's and then back to the senior Salvatore's blue ones.

"Giuseppe and I came here to end this nonsense between us. It's been long enough. Our children love each other and who are we to keep them apart?"

From somewhere upstairs comes the most hysterical crying, the screaming sobs only interrupted by the person's need to draw breath. They turn their heads at the primal sound, all eyes lifting to the top of the stairs. To be so close to such pain, agony that he inflicted, Giuseppe feels a huge kick of guilt and a sharp jab to fix it.

"Her room is the second one on the right. I'll make some coffee," Miranda takes Lily's arm and leads her away from the foyer.

"We'll be in the kitchen," he points the way, nods and follows after his wife.

Giuseppe eyes the staircase, taking hold of the bannister. Just lifting to take a step makes his breathing rapid and shallow. He can feel his pulse pounding in his temples as he puts one foot in front of the other and makes his way up.

* * *

In shock, Elena grabs her teddy bear and wraps her arms around it. The world turns into a blur, and so do all the sounds. Everything is just gone. She's trying to hold back the strange feelings rumbling inside her but she can't. A lone tear tracks down her cheek, opening the floodgates and then many burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down her face. Her chin trembles, she breathes heavier than she ever has before. She's gasping for air that simply isn't there. Her throat burns forming a silent scream. A part of her is dying inside…

Her head snaps to the door when she hears a knock. Thinking it's her mom, she croaks, "Come in." She gawps, no sound coming out when she sees who it is.

"Can I come in?"

She nods and sits up. "Is Damon...?" she can't get the rest of the words out.

"Damon's alive," he assures her, taking a step closer. "May I?" he gestures at the bed.

"Damon's okay?"

"Yes, Elena, Damon's okay and he's been asking for you. I was hoping you would come back to the hospital with Lily and me?"

"I don't understand, you told me to leave."

Cold sweat glistens on his furrowed brow. With hands clasped tightly in front of his stomach he constantly fiddles with his knuckles, weaving his fingers in and out of each other. "About that, I behaved abysmally. I am very sorry, I had no right to talk to you that way. You see, I never wanted Damon to be a fireman. I always thought, hoped rather that he'd join me in the family business but my son is as stubborn as his father and picked his own path to follow. All of the stress built up and you happened to be there when it all came to a head, a convenient target if you will. I hope you can forgive me for my outburst. I truly am sorry."

"Yes, yes of course," she bobs her head up and down animatedly. Smiling through her tears when he takes her hand and pats it gently.

"Thank you, Elena. You've taught an old man a much needed lesson in forgiveness. Now I'll go while you wash your face and then I will take you to see my son," he smiles at her then lets her hand go and stands up. Pausing at the door, he gives her a nod then steps out, pulling it closed behind him.

* * *

Following the Salvatore's and Elena outside, Grayson pulls Giuseppe aside. "I want you to know something, I reacted the same way when Damon dropped Elena off a few weeks ago. I was also wrong about him. But Elena isn't the reason I changed my opinion of your son, he inadvertently did that himself."

"Really?"

"I saw him in action as a fireman shortly after I chased him away. He's an impressive young man, following the beat of his own drum. You must be very proud."

"I am, Grayson, I am." he walks to the car and opens the back for Elena to get in. "Let's talk soon."

Shaking his hand, Gray nods and steps back when he slides behind the wheel. With a wave of his hand, he drives away.

"I never thought this day would come," Miranda remarks as they turn to go back inside.

"Me neither."

"I won't be surprised if we'll have a wedding to plan..."

Grayson stops in his tracks, wraps his arms around his wife and pulls her into a smoldering kiss. "No wedding will ever be as good as ours," he winks, picks her up and carries her up the stairs to the privacy of their room.

* * *

Elena pauses at the doorway, letting her eyes roam the room before he notices her. She'll go in, but at least this way she can watch him, sleeping quietly. Even with his arms trussed up like a mummy, and the scars she knows he'll always carry, he's still the most handsome man she's ever seen. Suddenly and without warning, he turns his head enough so that his eyes meet hers. His smile is one of happiness growing, much as a spring flower opens. She can see how it comes from deep inside to light his eyes and spreads into every part of him. A person smiles with more than their mouth, and she also hears it in his voice, in the way he relaxes at the sight of her.

"Elena..."

Immediately she runs to his bedside. Happiness is in the moment, the more focused, the more intense, like a beam of light to her soul. Placing her palm on his cheek, she leans over till their noses touch and then she moves slightly to kiss one eye and then the other goes lower to brush his lips. Unable to hold back her tears, happy ones, she moves to his ear, "I love you, Damon."

"How are you here?"

"Your parents brought me." Using her head, she gestures to the doorway where his parents are standing.

"Thank you," he breathes, his smile widening as his parents close the distance. Lily wraps an arm around Elena's shoulder, pulling the young girl against her. Giuseppe leans over and kisses his son's forehead.

"No, thank you, Damon... for making me a better man. I'm so proud to call you my son."

"Dad..."

"It's okay, son. You don't have to say anything. Mom and I are going to get a cup of coffee so you and Elena can have a little alone time." He turns to the young woman, "We'll be back in a little while to take you home. The hospital is pretty strict about visiting hours."

Lily lets her go and walks with her husband to the doorway. Pausing at the threshold, she grips her husband's hand. "Look at them." When the man turns around, his heart grows with joy at the beaming smile on their son's face.

* * *

A few months later:

Elena stares at the leaves falling from the trees. It's quite breathtaking, utterly beautiful. Down they come like multi-colored rain. Golds, reds and browns. They are a myriad of shapes and sizes, these leaves that clothe the trees. Now they are discarded and left to become part of the soil. But before that happens they make the most splendid mosaic. She loves the fall, it's her favorite time of year.

"You ready?" Damon asks when he stops his pickup in front of his parents place.

"Not really." She's looking out of the window, staring at the leaves carpeting the ground.

"I'm nervous too, Elena but we can't keep delaying it," his eyes drop to where her arms are crossed over her belly. Sighing she looks at him then gets out of the car. Damon stares ahead for a few seconds then steps out, determined to do this.

Music grows louder as they approach the front door, his heart rate quickly surpassing the rhythmic sounds coming from inside. Just as he puts his hand on the knob, his stomach drops to the ground and rolls down the driveway.

"Damon, Elena, come on in," she steps aside to let them pass. "Your parents are here too, Elena. They're in the living room, make yourself comfortable... I was about to make some coffee."

"Thanks mom, where's Stefan?"

"He and Jeremy are playing in the back. Why do you want to join them?" she winks, threading her arm with his and leading them to the others.

Once coffee is served and everyone is seated, Damon glances at his fiancé. "Elena and I have some news... There's no easy way to say this..."

"Are you pregnant?" Lily blurts out, her eyes darting from Damon to Elena. Elena shifts uncomfortably under the scrutiny, a deep red blush sears through her cheeks and for a minute she thinks her face is on fire. Suddenly feeling awkward, demure, and coy, she attempts to hide her rosy features behind her slim fingers.

Elena knows that every single pair of eyes is on her - like predatory beasts, they're all eagerly waiting for an answer.

Damon squeezes her hand, hangs back, allowing her time to compose herself, fighting back the smile that wants to break out. What happens next he's going to want to remember for a long time, so while his gaze is soft he doesn't drop his eyes for a moment. When he sees her almost imperceptible nod, he looks at his parents and then at hers "Yes, she's pregnant. We need to move up the wedding date."

Later that evening Damon, Stefan and their parents walk outside with the Gilberts to say goodnight. He pulls Elena aside and wraps her in a hug. "I love you. I told you it would be okay once they got over the initial shock."

"I know," she buries her head against his chest. When her father calls that it's time to go home, Damon kisses the top of her head, and opens the door for her. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"You will," he agrees, waving as they back away, he watches it till their taillights disappear in the dusk. After Lily takes Stefan inside to run him a bath, Damon follows his dad into his study.

"Here," he hands him a beer, having grabbed a couple out of the refrigerator.

"Thanks," he takes the opener, flicks it off and takes a fulfilling pull. "It's good."

"Sit down for a moment," he walks around and sits at his desk. Digging through one of his drawers, he pulls out a piece of paper, it's edges yellowing and hands it to Damon.

Looking at his dad curiously, he takes it from him. Eyeing their marriage license, knowing his birth came six months later, he breaks out in a laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh dad, I figured that out a long time ago."

* * *

Damon gives Elena a beaming smile as they glide towards the churches front doors to the notes of Mendelssohn's tune playing on the organ. Their steps are effortlessly in sync as they stroll down the aisle, his thumb runs over the diamond she now wears on her left fourth finger. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices hers are moist, no more, no less than his own. Tipping his head slightly, he whispers, "I love you," just as they step over the threshold and outside, only to be showered with rice and rose pedals when they hurry over to the waiting vehicle.

A large bouquet is tied to the hood with silk string. Streamers and tin cans are attached to the back bumper of the wedding car along with a _"just married" _sign. Holding the door open, Elena slides in, he follows and rolls down the window, waving at their family and friends as the car pulls away from the curb.

* * *

Damon reaches for her, lifting her once more but this time around the waist. Elena kisses him, her heart pounding against his. Suddenly the rest of her life seems like not nearly enough time. Beside the bed, he lowers her to the floor, the friction caused by her sliding down his body has them both breathless. He traces the edge of her bustier with his fingertips.

"I love this... but I'll cry if you tell me there are like a hundred of those little pearl buttons in the back"

"There's a zipper..."

He tugs it down without hesitation. The lace and satin falls silently to the carpet. Damon leans over, his tongue sliding slowly along the curve of her breast before easing her back against the bed. Already dizzy with anticipation, she focuses on the love and desire she sees shining in his eyes.

He smiles, brushing the hair from her face. He presses his lips to her bare shoulder. Elena closes her eyes, stretching against the pillows, as he swirls his tongue along the underside of her breast. He's sinfully good at knowing exactly how she likes to be touched. When he starts to kiss his way down her belly, slow and unhurried, paying special attention to her tiny bump, her hips surge toward him.

But Damon is busy with her garters now, unsnapping them easily and rolling off her stockings slowly and meticulously, as if he's concerned about snagging the silk. Earlier he was so worried about buttons and hooks, but the truth is that he's exceptionally skillful at getting her out of her clothes. Taking his time with her panties, he tugs them down inch by agonizing inch, watching her the entire time, his lips curved in a sly smile.

"Damon," she pants, squirming against the bed. He cups her breasts then, rubbing his thumbs against her nipples, just enough to tease her.

"Don't be mean."

"I would never," he replies, pretending to be scandalized.

"I'd be careful if I were you." She flings his shirt to the floor. "Like I told you earlier - whatever you dish out, expect to have it returned to you in spades."

His amused little expression falls instantly, and she can only laugh at the sober, serious look he shoots her. His touch becomes firmer too, and she feels every nerve ending in her body come alive. Feeling generous, she opens his pants, slides her hand into his briefs and closes her fingers around him.

"Oh, you're right," he moans. "This is so much better than teasing."

She laughs, stroking him a few times before pulling her hand out. He tries to protest but falls silent when she maneuvers him back against the pillows.

"Marriage has made you so agreeable."

He smiles, sliding a hand over her hip while she tugs his pants off. "What can I say? I'm happy."

She glances down at his lap and raises an eyebrow. "Yeah, I can see that."

He laughs, but shakes his head, reaching out to cup her cheek. "It's not that, I meant you, Elena. Knowing that I get to spend my life with you makes me happier than I ever could have imagined. "

She smiles, flushing with joy herself.

He scans her body eagerly and she knows that neither of them can wait any longer. She crawls over him, straddles his thighs, and kisses him once more. She gets to do this for the rest of her life, but she doesn't think she'll ever stop feeling it, the unbelievable rightness of his mouth on hers. His lips blaze a fiery trail across her cheek, over her jaw and down her throat until she's sighing breathlessly. He cups her shoulders then, holding her firmly, presses kisses across her chest and over her breasts, pulling a nipple into his mouth. Her back arches, her head lolls back, and it's almost as if she's freefalling with nothing keeping her bound to earth.

He eases her upright again, and she doesn't waste any time tasting him. He is hers - it's official and while the ring on his finger makes it obvious, branding him in a more primal way has its benefits too, like hearing him gasp beside her ear and breathing in his unique scent. His hand finds its way between her thighs, stroking her tender skin, so close to where she wants him to be, and she loses all focus. Her hips move to his rhythm, slow and deep and soon she sees stars.

She wants him on top, to feel his weight, so she pulls him over her and in barely a heartbeat, he slides into her warmth. She has to bite her lower lip to keep from crying out. A groan tears from his throat as he moves slowly and deliberately. He plunges so deep that she swears she can feel every burning inch of him.

"Damon," she urges breathlessly and grabs at the curve of his ass, digging her nails in to coax him on.

Whatever shred of self-control he's been clinging to snaps and then he's driving in and out of her in a furious pace. Elena feels the pleasure starting to build and she forces her eyes to open so she can see him, look at his handsome face, and somehow he manages to do the same. When their gazes lock, she braces herself, clutches the sheets and cries out in ecstasy.

Damon holds himself still watching, trying to wait her out, but she tightens her muscles and hugs him to her as he rides out the final waves. He rolls off of her, flinging an arm over his face. Neither of them can catch their breath, and when their eyes meet again, they laugh together. It takes a minute but he finally drags himself out of bed to grab the champagne and chocolate. Wordlessly, they touch their glasses together, the ping echoing through the quiet room and they sip the bubbly from their etched flutes. Elena digs into the chocolate next, her appetite is ravenous and when she sees Damon eyeing it enviously, she feeds him a piece, dropping it into his mouth.

* * *

July 6, 2005

It's a hot Connecticut afternoon, 61 years since that horrific day. The map of wrinkles on Damon's face tells the most incredible journey. His eye lines tell of laughter, of warm smiles and affection. His forehead tells of worries past and worries present. But mostly they are so deeply engrained, they tell the story of a man who has traveled through eight decades to this moment; to stand here as an old man. His twinkling eyes are framed by thick white eyebrows and on his stubbled chin are white whiskers. His bright blue eyes shine in the sunlight and his smile still beams whenever he looks at her.

Walking around the back of the car, he opens the door and offers his hand. Still exquisite at 79, Elena steps out and reaches for her cane. Having broken her hip the year before, she walks a little slower but sometimes Damon still has a hard time keeping up with her. Her hair has long since changed color, her silky white stands are draped in a braid over her shoulder and her eyes are still a vibrant brown. Sliding her arm through his, they start to walk towards the crowd.

"Dad, mom," their son James calls from behind, having parked his vehicle beside his parents. Quickly he and his wife, Kate catch up to them. Before long his twin brother Michael and his wife Charlotte join them too. No one was more surprised than they were when the doctor told them there was another baby after their first son was delivered six months after their wedding.

"Dad, mom," Michael kisses his mother's cheek. "Are any of the others coming?"

The years have been kind to them, together she and Damon had six children, the twins followed by Betsy, Susan, John and Caroline. Their youngest was quite the shock as Elena was 45 when she was born. They also have 21 grandchildren and 7 great grandchildren, all of whom have Papa wrapped around their little fingers.

"Susan said she'd meet us here," Elena offers, as they walk towards the dedication ceremony.

The memorial is located in a field in North Hartford, erected on the site of the disaster and laid out as the circus tent. They walk around, looking at the red bricks which tell the story.

_"Mom's last words: Meet you outside." _

_"Six year-old survivor: Carried out on dad's shoulders."_

_"Fallen angels, Agnes, Judy, Eva and Michael Norris."_

_"As close to hell as I want to get."_

_"Dad thanks for being too busy to go."_

_"Don't cry Bobby, I'll be ok." Aunt Annie Burns dies."_

In this case, hell was the Hartford Circus Fire of July 6, 1944, which claimed the lives of 168 people, many of them women and children. At the center ring of the memorial, four granite benches and the inscribed bricks surround a curved, bronze disk rising up from the ground. The names of the victims and their ages are etched into it.

The ceremony includes remarks from some of the 13 members of the Hartford Circus Fire Memorial Foundation, musical presentations, proclamations from politicians and the unveiling of the memorial's centerpiece. Each victim's name is read aloud and accompanied by a ring of a Hartford Fire Department bell as children place white roses on the monument.

"When they were reading those children's names and ages, my heart just about broke," Elena whispers to her husband. He nods at her solemnly. She's a little surprised when he rolls up his sleeves. Even in the hot weather, he doesn't like it when people stare at the burn scars he's carried with him into old age.

"There you are," Susan approaches with her daughter, kissing her parents on the cheek.

"Are you okay, papa?" Mary Alice asks, seeing his scarred arms. She's seen them many times of course but she too is surprised to see his sleeves pushed up.

"Of course," he winks at her, teasing her with a waggle of his brows. Elena laughs, her husband is still quite the lady's man.

Together they walk towards the outer edges of the memorial, where several flowering dogwoods are planted to mark the location of the side and end walls of the tent that was packed to capacity that day with 7,000 circus-goers. On the north side of the memorial, a path winds toward the entrance to the center ring. Along the way several granite pedestals provide a timeline of the events of that day .

After the dedication, Hartford Fire Chief Charles A. Teale Sr., one of the people who led the drive for a memorial, shakes Damon's hand. Long retired, he rose in the ranks becoming fire chief himself. He remembers his father's beaming smile and applause when he received the promotion.

"It's fitting," Damon admits, holding Elena's free hand snugly.

"I think so too. After the 50th anniversary, I thought the plaque that we put inside the school would have to suffice, but I was wrong," he admits. "It became our responsibility to say 'we can do it,' and we did. Thank you Damon and you too, Elena for putting so much effort into the fundraisers."

A short time later, while Elena is chatting with their children, Damon eyes the field, slowly he walks over to what he believes is the spot where he almost died 61 years ago. That day is seared into his mind, as hard as he's tried to forget, he can't. He takes a breath and gets down on one knee to touch the grass. Memories fill his consciousness, the organ grinder, the clown, Emmett Kelly futilely carrying the bucket of water, the panicked crowd, the bodies, it's all still there.

Feeling a hand on his shoulder he startles and looks up to see his beautiful bride standing over him, protecting him like she always does. Taking her hand, he gets up and kisses her like he did when he scooped her into his arms to carry her away from the fire.

"Let's go home," he suggests when they part.

She nods and together, hand in hand, they walk back to their car... their memories of that day forever lingering...

* * *

_When the lights go out on this glittering realm of sawdust and popcorn, the circus puts off its spangles and climbs into battle dress for the nightly combat with time and distance. The tear-down is a wild tangle of men, machine and beast, an orderly disorder of ropes and metal poles and steel cable and tons of heavy canvas. Yet out of this apparent chaos, these people bring tomorrow's show, fresh and new and hot, no matter how tangled the skein of their own lives may be. _

* * *

_It was already ninety degrees and very humid when patrons started showing up hours before the 1 PM opening time. Due to the unexpected crush of people early, the circus skipped several normal routine measures like watering the grounds and removing obstructions from exits. _

_As the 2:15 PM showtime approached, more and more people – mostly women, children and the elderly due to the afternoon matinee performance and the majority of able-bodied men still in World War II service – slide under the top. Due to the heat and crowds, it was sweltering, even without a fire. _

_A few minutes after the scheduled start time, the brass band struck up the "Star-Spangled Banner" and the circus began its show. So-called "runaway cages" were located at all the entrances in case an animal had an inclination to try to escape. These blocked a large portion of the exits. _

_The opening act actually involved no animals at all, but showgirls dressed in bright yellow military outfits "taming" others in lion costumes. Then, the real animals came out – lions, polar bears and Great Danes. As that performance was finishing up, the Great Wallendas – a family of daredevil and aerialists – started taking their positions thirty feet above the ground. They were the first ones to notice the spreading fire at about 2:40 PM. Around that same time, bandleader Merle Evans instructed his band to immediately begin playing The Stars and Stripes Forever, with the song more or less functioning as an alarm bell for everyone working at the circus. _

_Directly after, ushers grabbed buckets of water that had been placed underneath the bleachers specifically for this situation. Some even tried to cut the fabric where the fire was to separate it from the rest of the tent. However, at this point the flames were out of control. _

_With the exits largely blocked and flames quickly engulfing the tent, the evacuation devolved into chaos. The abundance of children also caused delays and some even fell down, trampled to death by the masses trying to escape. Beyond this, melted wax began raining down from the tent roof above, burning those below and adding to the panic. _

_Within only a few moments, nearly the entire tent was engulfed and, with a huge boom, the big top collapsed, trapping the masses still inside. Some later compared the tent to a giant, melting candle that reached the end of its wick. _

_The fire perhaps only lasted about 10 minutes. When it was over, more than 160 people had died – many of whom were children; the most famous of all was "Little Miss 1565," a little girl who, despite her body being in very good condition when found, was never claimed by anyone nor ever identified, despite her face being plastered on newspapers and magazines nationwide after the fire. _

_In 1991, the body was declared to be that of Eleanor Emily Cook, despite the fact that her aunt and uncle had examined the body and it did not fit the description they provided. The Connecticut State police forensics unit compared hair samples and determined they were probably from the same person. The body was exhumed in 1991 and buried next to her brother, Edward, who had also died in the fire. In 1992, her death certificate was officially changed from the previous identification of 1565. Since then, the Cook family has raised questions about whether the body is that of Eleanor Cook, and some investigators have come to believe that Eleanor's body may have been another of the unclaimed bodies from the fire and not little Miss 1565. _

_Much of the information for this story came from circusfire1944 . com _

_**The passages at the beginning of the story and at the end came from the script for "The Greatest Show on Earth". It's a 1952 Cecile B. DeMille movie starring Charlton Heston and Jimmy Stewart. Emmett Kelly aka Weary Willie also appeared in it. It won many awards including the Academy Award for Best Motion Picture in 1953. _

* * *

_Please forgive any errors. I tried to read through it a couple of times. Eva's in Belgium at Charlotte's wedding and wasn't able to help me__. _

_Love and miss you Eva. :(_

_Chapter title: '100 Years' by Five for Fighting._

_I would love to hear your thoughts about this story and chapter. We loved writing Damon and Elena as senior citizens. They're special no matter the stage of life they're in._

_We hope you all have a lovely day. Thank again so much for your amazing support. It means more to Eva and me than you know._

_Avengers Endgame: All I'll say is that I liked parts of it and disliked others... ;)_


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